A whirlpool of 

Tyrian purple

adds flair 

to the descent

into the lair

of unintended

consequence. 

 

A diadem adorns 

the head, whilst

a requiem rises

from the riverbed. 

 

But so long as

the flow of nectar

stays steadfast,

you won't, of course,

inveigh; you'll

simply have to be

an iconoclast

some other day...